


Medicine for the heart

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Shiratorizawa regular team dynamics, Slice of Life, Tendou being helpful, loosely based on an event in the light novel, mild mention of sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:21:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8788828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: Goshiki overexerts himself during the run and ends up with stomach pains. Ushijima shows his care as captain.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After reading [this gorgeous funny event from the HQ!! novel,](http://pistachioshiba.tumblr.com/post/134996453075/shiratorizawa-novel-chapter-translation) I had to write something up for this gorgeous pair ;v; I love them so much ok, they're my otp in Shiratorizawa for sureee.
> 
> Ushijima being a little aloof to social cues, especially the romantic kind, is basically my favourite thing to write with him. Loving this pairing to bits, I want to explore that more in lengthier fics ovo

Worst Monday in the history of Mondays. Unlike his classmates, Tsutomu used to look forward to his Mondays. He might not be a fan of all his subjects at school, but he was decent in most of them. Tsutomu would never complain to others. Chemistry is confusing, Home ed is alright because the girls are nice to him but cooking is not his thing, he always forgets to add at least one ingredient. Mathematics is just numbers trying to drain his blood. But he doesn’t hate Mondays; they stand for the start of a week, a new week. He always gets to play volleyball, which he loves, and he’s often able to catch a glimpse of Ushijima in the morning when he exits the dorms for school.

It’s just that this Monday afternoon, Tsutomu isn’t himself, and definitely not at his best. While he likes Mondays as another chance to prove himself worthy of his place in the regulars line up, he might have lost his power trying to keep up with Ushijima.

If you could call three blocks, two crosswalks, and the corner where he finally collapsed, ‘keeping up’ at all. 

After Oohira helped him back to the gym and he could have sworn he felt better after throwing up, being yelled at by Washijou and having to do less than the others was plain hurtful. In the end, he couldn’t keep up with the drills, and the weakness in his legs was too much to hold up the rest of his body. Saitou sent him off to the dorms long before practice was over.

“But!” Unable to hide it, unable to control it, Tsutomu’s eyes find where Ushijima stands in line. He doesn’t talk to his teammates, but his mere presence creates order and a high level of concentration. Ushijima looks strong without trying, and practices to his fullest to perfect the machinery, the monster that he is. The prospect of missing out even half an hour of practice makes Tsutomu’s stomach rumble all over again.

“No, you shouldn’t overdo it. Oohira has told me what happened, and it’s best for you to recover. Take a bath, try to eat light, then go to bed.” That’s the main gist of what Saitou-san says. The reality is much longer, much softer. Tsutomu registers only the directive tone, the mere orders. There’s not much else to say against that, and he has no choice but to accept.

Pressing his lips together, Tsutomu feels his eyes burning. He’s glad the rest of the team is running and shouting. They’re not able to witness this shameful event. Bowing his head and shoulders, Tsutomu feels smaller. His ‘yes, sir’ is too silent for his own ears, and he quickly gathers his things and heads out. Listening to the sounds behind him becomes so hurtful that he sprints towards the dorms, only to be sick again at arrival.

It hurts, doing everything in his power to overcome this sky high bar of excellence that Ushijima stands for, and having to end up even worse when he fails.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Receive, roll, stand, run to net, jump once, side step, jump a second time, off the court. Reon finishes the drill and gets to the other side, lining up for serves. Satori stands in front of him, breathing hard but smiling, hands on his hips. Reon’s about to analyze his movements and reaction time, when Satori bends backwards and looks at him upside down.

“Did ya see that just now?”

Blinking, Reon hates to say no. Satori, fishing for compliments as usual. Or spotting a funny sight, which should be obvious and laughed at by all. Unable to bluff, Reon shakes his head. Satori’s eyes half shut to slits, and he points at the double open doors of the gym. 

“Coach just send Tsutomu home. Poor boy. Was he sick all the way here?” 

They move up in the line, and Reon looks at the exit. Coach Saitou and head coach Washijou seem to be going over statistics. Reon clenches his fists. 

“No. You heard him.” Reon wishes his words would have gotten through Tsutomu. The boy tries too hard to get to Wakatoshi’s level. It’s admirable, but unreachable at this point. Eita, after his own serve, tells Satori to concentrate and stop his gossiping. Reon agrees out loud, then pushes Satori forwards in line as he holds it up by walking with his back still bend. 

“What happened?” Wakatoshi asks from behind. Reon looks back to his friend, over the heads of two terrified first years. It’s not the place, and as Eita rightfully said, the time to gossip. 

“I’ll tell you later.” Reon says, picking up one of the balls with both hands. He hears Wakatoshi saying ‘Okay’, and then he steps back for the jumping serve. He wished he could check up on Tsutomu, but Washijou wouldn’t allow it, and Reon wasn’t the one Tsutomu would want to see in this situation, anyway. After his serve, he wonders if it's a good idea to send Wakatoshi instead.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

 _”I know this might be a foreign concept to you, but at least act nice, alright? He’s a good kid, and has a strong heart. Don’t go breaking it.”_ Eita’s words hang like a grey cloud over Wakatoshi’s head when he exits the cafeteria. Dinner had been served after practice, and most of the guys were off to the baths or for a quick shower. Eita’s words from last week, together with Reon’s insight into what happened today at the run… They muddle up in Wakatoshi’s brain, like a formula he can’t decipher. 

Standing still in front of Goshiki’s room, he grips the towel tighter. Eita mentioned Goshiki’s feelings, and how they weren’t of the normal, rival-y nature. He painted them to have a deeper meaning, packed tight with emotions and things Wakatoshi didn’t quite understand most of the time. There was a reason for his rejection of any at all confessions coming his way, although they got fewer in number over the years. People stopped trying.

Goshiki never stopped, though. Even when he collapsed on the ground sick to his stomach, he had forced himself to go through with practice. Wakatoshi could only respect him for that. He hadn’t noticed that Goshiki’s falling behind during the initial stages of the run had been anything but the usual. No one had said a word to him when they were back at the gym, not even Reon. As a captain, he had a duty towards his team, and it didn’t just mean being strong and winning.

“Are you just going to stand there or actually knock and check on the future ace, current monster-ace?” Satori stands right beside him, clasping his hand on Wakatoshi’s shoulder. “Is he still hurling? I’m sorry, just asking ‘cus I can’t stand the stench. I feel bad for leaving him this afternoon, too.” 

Wakatoshi looks to the door, down to the crack. It’s not as if he could catch the scent through it. If this is a visit to the sick, he shouldn’t have come empty-handed. Looking to the door, Wakatoshi opens his mouth. “He didn’t come to dinner, did he?”

“Nope. No one saw our little sick Tsutomu. Reon wanted to check on him, but decided it was your job, after all. I agree!” Satori pats his shoulder once more, then makes to leave. It’s as if he’s afraid that the weaknesses of the sick might come for him after Wakatoshi finally enters the room. Wakatoshi keeps staring at the bottom of the door, gathering his thoughts. 

“Tendou, wait. I might need a favour.” Wakatoshi ignores the weird sounds Satori tends to make when he’s in shock, or pretending to be. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Tsutomu’s eyes are heavy. At long last, lying on his side and protecting his stomach from bad spirits, he feels at peace. Apart from hating the fact that he didn’t participate in practice today, he starts to feel a little better. He’d done everything Saitou-san told him, left the baths before he could hear anyone else, and hid in his room. Too ashamed to show his face at dinner or eat with those who weren’t complete idiots like himself, all Tsutomu wanted was to fall asleep fast and face another day tomorrow. Opportunities awaiting and all that youthful stuff.

There’s a knock on his door. It’s not a silent rap, careful not to wake those asleep. It’s a booming, thunderous ram, scaring Tsutomu into a sitting position.

“Y-yes!?” In his head, Tsutomu prepares for the worst. The coaches coming in to tell him he’s no good. Demoting him to bench, or worse; second string. Cheering squad. Tsutomu is so afraid that he has to hand over his numbered uniform that he clenches it to his chest, and as the light from outside shines into his room, he closes his eyes, ready to face the reality of-

“Goshiki?” 

He keeps holding his breath when Ushijima enters the room. Instead of flicking on the lightswitch at the entrance, he closes the distance to Tsutomu’s bedside table and switches on the desk light there. It’s better for Tsutomu’s eyes, which still aren’t opening. The heavy dip beside him on the bed forces him to look. Ushijima doesn’t look happy, and his stare bores right into Tsutomu’s sudden glass heart. It feels much worse than having Oohira help him up, coach Washijou yelling at him, or Saitou-san sending him off the court.

Deep in his gut, he has a feeling that Ushijima found out everything. When his arm reaches out, Tsutomu thinks of a happy place; one where he doesn’t have to fend off bullies or gets sent to the principal's office for violent behaviour against them. Where he’s not benched in his second year although he was an outstanding player. A place where he can relax and be himself, unguarded-

“Goshiki, breathe. Are you alright? If you’re still sick, go see a nurse.” Ushijima’s hand rests on his stomach, a soft force. Careful, without much pressure. It’s not in Ushijima’s nature to worry about others, or to worry about anything at all. It shocks Tsutomu to his core, and he looks up to the person sitting on his bed, touching his stomach, whose face seems closer than ever before. He remembers a question being asked, and shakes his head. 

“I’m fine, Ushijima-san!”

“You weren’t at dinner tonight.” 

“True, I wasn’t. I wasn’t feeling so well.” Tsutomu doesn’t want to admit that it all started during lunch when he thought eating the double the amount of food Ushijima took was a smart idea. When he stubbornly went running after finishing all his stomach couldn’t carry. Or even attempting to go through the tough drills the coaches dished out during practice. “I’m much better now, and I’ll be back full force tomorrow!”

“I have been told about what happened during the run. It’s not my responsibility to check on all of you,” Ushijima starts, and Tsutomu’s empty stomach twists in a whole other kind of torturous pain. This is the last thing he wants to hear. “And you should know the limits of your current self. Not being able to partake in our practice is one thing. Not making sure your body heals properly and gets the nutrients it needs after such an ordeal is a whole other. Come.” 

Ushijima gets off the bed, and finds a pair of socks on the ground. He throws them at the place he just sat. Tsutomu, too stunned to even react, automatically puts on the socks and follows Ushijima to the door.

“W-wait, may I ask where we are going, Ushijima-san?”

Ushijima points at the shoes standing at the entrance, and waits for Tsutomu outside while he ties his laces. 

“Your stomach is still unsettled, yes? There are light things you can eat, and should.” Following Ushijima past other people’s dorm-rooms, Tsutomu keeps up with his long strides. They go down the stairs, between buildings, and up another set of stairs. At last he sees their destination, and more importantly-

“Ohoho, you’re alive and well, I see!” Tendou grins from ear to ear, standing against the door of the canteen. He toys with a set of keys around his index finger, making them twirl. “Welcome, to the no-star restaurant of-”

‘Tendou, quit your games. We don’t have much time.” Ushijima cuts him off, a rare sight. Tendou immediately freezes and complies, opening the canteen door. It’s dark inside, and they can’t switch the lights on if they don’t want to be caught. Standing guard at the door, Tendou sends them further into the kitchen and closes the door behind him. 

“Oh, and Wakatoshi-kun,” He mouths while Tsutomu creeps onwards into the kitchen area. He cannot make out what they’re saying, too busy hiding his head behind the counters. When Ushijima enters, he pulls off pots and pans from the top cabinets, then finds cans of soup and packages of rice in the below ones. There’s also a timer on the counter.

“You’ll need a deep bowl and a pair of chopsticks.” Ushijima whispers, his eyes looking around in the dark. “Try over there.” 

Tsutomu can’t believe this is happening, and makes his body go through the motions. It’s not too dark for it to be dangerous. Ushijima lights the stove and puts two pots on each, readying water to cook the rice. The experience is quite exciting, and Tsutomu can’t keep his eyes off Ushijima when he measures rice into the boiling water. Pushing the bowl and chopsticks over the counter, he rounds it in order to help with the rest of the preparations. In the dark, however, he fails to see corners or indeed where his feet are going, and manages to twist his ankle.

“Watch out,” Ushijima warns, at his side in a second, arm firm around Tsutomu’s middle. He’s pressed against Ushijima, who sighs; an exhale so deep it moves his bangs on his forehead. It warms his entire face, worst at the cheeks. “Are you alright?” 

For the second time this evening he asks this question, and it unsettles Tsutomu a bit. Apart from the closeness, the concern becomes too much. 

“Y-yeah, of course!” Tsutomu hisses, flustered from the strong one-armed embrace, the hand steady at his side. He quickly stands on his own two feet again, pushing Ushijima away with a tiny ‘thanks’. Fists on the counter, Tsutomu wonders if he can somehow regain whatever is left of his dignity. He feels Ushijima’s watchful eagle eyes on him, and about to say more, when the timer erupts. 

“Will you two keep it down in there!?” Tendou yelps from the doorway, hidden from sight. Tsutomu grabs the timer at the same moment Ushijima reaches for it, and their hands ram and touch each other. Somehow, the timer shuts up, and Tsutomu is left with a red face which is thankfully safe in the darkness. Unable to look up, he waits until his heart stops the erratic nonsense. 

He used to love Mondays. When he could catch a glimpse of Ushijima in the morning, and pretend it was to copy his every move. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Despite what Eita might think of him, Satori makes sure to stay clear of the kitchen. He couldn’t just leave them entirely alone, but he surely doesn’t want to hear anything in particular. Not that Wakatoshi will attack Tsutomu here, or as if Tsutomu would finally have the courage to confess his feelings. He should have seen that one coming, but no; it had been Eita who picked up their kouhai’s little crush on their captain. 

No matter how curious Satori is to see how this plays out, he doesn’t exactly want to disrupt what could be a wonderful and cute little relationship. It would be the talk of the school, if he would sink so low as to out his friends. Not that there’s anything _to_ talk about or even mention in passing to Eita; the only sounds he hears from the kitchen, after that horrible timer, were the sounds of food being made. 

He rolls his eyes. Tsutomu might be a chicken, but he’d expected more from Wakatoshi. That is, of course, if he’d even accept the feelings of anyone who has the hots for him.

For a weird reason past Satori’s understanding, he doesn’t want Tsutomu’s heart to crack.

 _‘Heh, like an egg,’_ he thinks. 

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Wakatoshi makes him sit down and eat the meal properly, albeit in the dark. Chicken soup and rice should do the trick for now. He doesn’t mind Satori’s soft hums from the door, or the slurping sounds Tsutomu makes while he’s eating. 

Once Wakatoshi is assured Tsutomu feels better, the trio slides out of the canteen area, and back towards the dorms. Tsutomu asks where Satori got the keys from, but he keeps silent. Satori takes quick steps to be ahead of them, saying the captain and sick person have more reason to be out on a stroll for fresh air.

“But don’t get caught in the moonlight~!” Satori sing-songs back into his room, closing the door. 

“Huh, what’s that supposed to mean…” Tsutomu’s asks, his breath showing in the air. Wakatoshi watches the door, then Tsutomu, then looks ahead of the road acting as if he has no clue. Eita, Reon, now Satori; they were all giving him hints, either subtle or straight to his face. Wakatoshi thought he’d made his choice a long time ago, during his last year of middle school, but Tsutomu made him question that.

Tsutomu, in fact, made him question a lot of things. Being straightforward, Wakatoshi was quick to find the answers on his own, but guessed it wasn’t just a one-man deciding deal. Eita’s words echo in his head once more, _’Don’t go breaking it.’_

Arriving at Tsutomu’s door, Wakatoshi knows what to do. Or at least, he has an inkling of what’s the right thing in this situation. He follows Tsutomu inside, this time turning on the light and closing the door behind him. Tsutomu, still weak from having a bad stomach, finds his bed as fast as he can. He looks better than before, the chicken soup doing its healing work. Healing. Satori mentioned another method.

“Don’t lie on your stomach when you sleep. Make sure to hydrate well tomorrow. Stop pushing yourself past what your body can take, as well.” Wakatoshi speaks as he nears the bed, watching Tsutomu’s dislike at the words and apparent outrage bubble below his surface. Burning every bridge and each of the old thoughts he once had, Wakatoshi’s hand finds Tsutomu’s shoulder. It’s not to steady himself, of course.

_‘Kisses heal’._

With his free hand, Wakatoshi pushes the chin up in a somewhat gentle manner, then places his mouth on top of Tsutomu’s, trying to gently brush them together. He’s always known the concept as Satori wouldn’t ever shut up about it. Executing a kiss and making it pleasurable for Tsutomu was a whole other thing. Wakatoshi wouldn’t know if he did it right without verbal confirmation, but he’s not ready to talk of these matters just now.

“Get better. It won’t do if you can’t practice to your fullest capabilities.” Wakatoshi leans back, somehow unable to retract his hand from Tsutomu’s shoulder. 

“Ushijima-san....? You just kissed me.”

Looking away, Wakatoshi reminds himself that embarrassment is for other people. One of the burned bridges was him telling himself that he doesn’t have time for a relationship. Not now, not at this point in his career. But exceptions have to be made. He has to make it possible. Glancing back at Tsutomu, whose cheeks are colouring even brighter, he doesn’t regret his decision.

“It appears that I did.”

Tsutomu, despite what Wakatoshi believed he knew, doesn’t look happy. 

“But… why!?”

It may be a good moment to take his hand off Tsutomu, yet his fingers are reluctant to leave. Maybe he does have to steady himself, after all. Maybe Tsutomu’s passion and willpower have an entire different strength than what Wakatoshi knew to be counted as ‘strong’ before. Maybe he should have kissed him differently, asked for permission. Instead Wakatoshi can only explain himself, the best he deems sensible.

“It has been brought to my attention that you may have… feelings for me. I acted on those. A response.” Overexcitement wasn’t what Tsutomu needs. Wakatoshi switches the light next to his bed on again, then makes to leave. His fingers feel warm. “I may have acted to rashly, for which I apologize. Or if I surprised you…” 

He wants to leave the room, close the door, ask his three friends if he misbehaved and made a mistake. He has to stop, hearing loud stomping feet. A weight rams against his back, and two arms loop around his middle. He’s can’t turn except for his head but even then Wakatoshi can’t see much. Smiling, he puts his hand on top of Tsutomu’s.

“Rest. We can discuss this tomorrow, if you like.” He feels the nod against his spine, then waits for Tsutomu to disengage. All of a sudden he pushes Wakatoshi out, and the door closes in a loud BAM! It’s not like it’s an understandable reaction or one Wakatoshi was prepared for. He might have to ask Reon if this behaviour is normal. Not wishing to consider it past reason, Wakatoshi heads back to his own dorm. Tomorrow would be a new day, and he and Tsutomu could talk things through. Wakatoshi might even be able to accept Tsutomu’s feelings formally, and be open to the prospect of a relationship.

He smiles just thinking about it.

 

*

 

*

 

*

 

Tsutomu’s forehead thumps against the door, and he slides down right then and there. The wide smile on his face hurts his cheek, but he can’t stop feeling wobbly all over. This might just be one of the better Mondays he had after all, and the start of a whole new chapter in his life.

His lips still tingle from when Wakatoshi kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> As we Germans tend to say 'Liebe geht durch den magen'.
> 
> [Request specific work to be written for you!](http://fish-wifey.tumblr.com/post/153555122225/%E3%80%86%EF%BE%9F-%EF%BE%9F-coffee-is-life)


End file.
